


every minute from this minute now

by saddestboner



Series: Tumblr Prompts [31]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Drabble, Fighting and making up, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Making Up, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddestboner/pseuds/saddestboner
Summary: They’ve had this fight a million times before, Ian is pretty sure.





	every minute from this minute now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izzetboilerworks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzetboilerworks/gifts), [tobalance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobalance/gifts).



> Anonymous prompted me with _“It’s hard to argue when you won’t stop making sense but my tongue still misbehaves and keeps digging my own grave”_ and pairing of your choice, in response to [this meme](http://nullrefer.com/?https://saddestboner.tumblr.com/post/173710794441/because-im-a-little-bored-right-now).
> 
> Title from "Open Your Eyes," by Snow Patrol.
> 
> Also crossposted [here](https://saddestboner.dreamwidth.org/805540.html).

They’ve had this fight a million times before, Ian is pretty sure. Every fight they’ve had recently feels rehashed, really, a holdover or lingering memory from the good ol’ days. Texas heat and ice cubes on bare skin, sloppily folded fans made out of that day’s sports section. 

There were some good memories amidst all the wreckage, but it’s gotten harder and harder to find them. And it makes Ian feel mean, small and hard like a diamond with sharp edges that draw blood. 

It’s too easy for Ian to slip into the old routine. To come at Salty with his fingers curled into claws and bile spewing from his mouth rather than endearments and kisses. 

Ian’s never really taken to the easy way, though. Sometimes he lets himself get pulled along on the tides, a rudderless ship blown every which way on rough-and-tumble seas, but when he throws down his anchor he can fight back against the current. 

Today’s a good day to fight, he thinks.

Salty’s crashed out in Ian’s living room, his arms and legs dangling over the edge of the couch. He’s got an empty beer bottle clutched in his hand, knuckles dragging on the hardwood, the amber liquid soaking into the carpet.

Ian pads over to him, picks up the bottle and sets it on the coffee table. Edging his way around the puddle of spilled beer, he tucks Salty’s arms across his chest. He tugs the afghan off the back of the couch and drags it over him.

Salty stirs slightly in his sleep but he doesn’t wake. He just smacks his lips and mutters something Ian can’t quite hear. He doesn’t pay it any mind.

When he’s done putting Salty to bed, Ian heads for the kitchen.

“Ian?” he hears Salty mumble at his back and he pauses, turning on his heel.

“Yeah?” Ian asks, rubbing at his bare arms and the goosebumps that prickle on his skin.

Salty’s quiet for a little bit, but Ian waits. Finally, he says, “What were we fightin’ about earlier? I don’t remember.”

“Not important,” Ian says, waving it off. 

Salty rubs at his eyes. “Must’ve been important for me to get blackout drunk.”

“Sleep it off, big guy,” Ian says, not unkindly. 

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” Salty asks.

Ian rolls his eyes. “I’m not squeezing on that couch with you.” He pauses. “Come to bed, Jarrod.”

Salty sits up and pushes the blanket away, offering Ian a bleary-eyed, sleepy smile. He gets up off the couch and trundles over to where Ian waits in the doorway. He’s close enough now that Ian can smell the beer on his breath and the stale sweat and that night’s dinner. 

It’s not perfect. Salty’s not his Prince Charming, not at all. It might not even be terribly healthy most of the time. 

Ian stands up on the tips of his toes and kisses Salty on his rough, unshaven cheek. He pats him on the chest. 

Whatever it is, whatever they are, he likes it. He likes them. 

Ian slips his hand around Salty’s and takes him to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. **If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.**


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